Distractions

I've been collecting vintage male nudes on the internet. What won't I do to distract me from writing? What can I say? I'm not sure it is deliberate? But then, what is deliberate?

I was tidying up a couple of folders on my big, storage hard drive, Thursday morning, first thing, when I found a collection, a tiny collection, I had started a few years ago. Surely, we can do better than that, I thought?

I had a few stray photos I had collected randomly. I googled a few more. And then there I was adding to the collection. It progressed from there. I found a photographer I liked and then I became Hercule Poirot tracking his photos down.

And it was all over from there.

And suddenly it was Sunday night and I'd done nothing else. It is amazing how time slips away. And nothing else constructive got done, all weekend. Nothing. Grrr!

When collecting vintage male nudes, I stumbled across a few vintage female nudes and I can see where the nicknames of beaver and muff and growler comes from. 

There are these pretty women seductively and sexily showing off their genitals that are this wild mass of black hair. It now looks like something out of a sketch comedy show. Do you want to look like grandma?

Oh no, nobody wants to see that. Girls, girls, girls, get your Brazilians please, it is so much better if you do. 

I heard a feminist say not so long ago, that 20 year old boys have never seen a hairy snatch, like it was a bad thing. Those boys will be thanking their girlfriends for that. I’m sure a millennial boy would be traumatised by such sights. Still, it would give us an excuse to comfort them. There, there, don’t you worry about that, come sit with me.